Zelig Cuts The Ribbon

I'm heading to the opening day of the new farmers' market in Acton, with a bus full of produce picked that morning.


A few minutes into the start of the market and Josey, the market manager, asked me to cut the ribbon for the opening ceremony.

"Ahh, yeah, be there in a minute Josey."

Since Whole Circle is the only farmer vendor at the market I was asked to cut the ribbon on behalf of Whole Circle and as a representative of the farming community. I was given a pair of garden shears, and stood in the middle of a line of local bigwigs including the town mayor. After a few seconds of click click clicking of the local reporters' cameras I cut a length of twine to the hoopla and cheers of local bystanders.

After being blinded by the flash of the paparazzi cameras I got back to my table piled high with vegetables and excoriated an elderly lady for mauling my bags of fresh picked lettuce mix.

Which of These Hooligans Is Carrying a Weapon?

Whole Circle Plays Host For The Day

We had about 20 interns visit from other CRAFT farms. The day started with home made Cinnamon buns (made from our fresh ground flour) in the farm store, followed by a tour of the greenhouse, vegetable garden and the cows. We later came back to the barn where Johann talked about biodynamics and Rudolph Steiner.

Race With A Pig

The Tamworth pigs at whole Circle Farm are a relatively rare breed in Canada. They're known to be very curious. On our farm they’re always escaping - it's not unusual to hear a hurried call over the farm radio, "the pigs are out, they’re running through the vegetable patch...” They seem to need the challenge and excitement of breaking free. If the fence was escape-proof I’m sure the pigs would less contented.

Now that spring is here and there’s plenty of green pasture the pigs get most of their food by eating grass and turning up the soil in search of worms and grubs. They still get a small amount of dried grain, which we feed them in the morning and early evening.

Two sows and their 18-odd piglets live in the barn, plus a couple of other mature pigs. Walking into their pen at feeding time always feels like a game of man vs. intelligent beast. As I walk toward their troughs with a feed bucket in each hand they swarm around, trying to get their snouts into the buckets.  It's about 2,000 pounds of crazy hungry pig energy swirling around my rubber boots like a raging surf. If I fall over I might get caught in a pig undertow. The truth is, they are pushy, but not aggressive, so I'm never afraid. But it's more convenient if they're not in their pen when I fill their troughs, and the other day I narrowly had the opportunity to get in and out of their pen before they charged in.

I came down the barn stairs earlier than usual that day and noticed the pigs in another part of the barn. One of the sows spotted me through the metal grate and engaged me in a human-to-pig staring contest. We each seemed to have a rough idea what the other was thinking.

She was thinking, "that dumb-ass has got my pig-slop, I can see the bucket he's trying to hide from        me - as soon as I win this staring contest I'm heading straight to the troughs."

Meanwhile, I was thinking, "That pig knows I've got food for her. It's a more direct line from where I am to the pig troughs. I think I can get to her trough ahead of her and her pig buddies."

I turned away. The sow turned away. We each made a beeline for the troughs.

The other pigs sensed her urgency, and followed. I entered the pen and had time to fill two troughs before I saw the pigs coming round from the other side of the barn, with the sow leading the charge. I got the third trough filled as they barreled into the pen. I got out - it felt like stepping away from a crashing wave of water - and I latched the wooden door behind me. Through the door I heard the furious slurp slurping of pigs eating their food.

"That was a fun game," thought the pig, and me.

Egg on My Face

Dear Lovers of Fresh Eggs from the School Bus Chickens,

I have to apologize for the recent dearth of fresh eggs. The problem is that we have too few eggs for too many fresh egg connoisseurs.

Now that the CSA Season has started we're obliged to provide eggs first to our CSA customers. CSA refers to Community Supported Agriculture. By paying a fixed fee to our farm at the beginning of the season CSA customers get a weekly box of fresh picked vegetables. The first CSA vegetable pick-up at Whole Circle Farm started this past week. The last pickup will be in October. The farm managers explained that we need to insure that there are enough eggs on hand for the CSA customers when they come to the farm store for their weekly vegetable pickup, and for the first time we’ve had to ration the eggs to one dozen per CSA family.

I didn’t anticipate this would happen. Being new to farming I thought that food comes in an endless supply. All I have to do is go to the supermarket. If the shelves get low a supermarket employee magically appears from behind the swing doors at the back of the store and wheels out more stuff. I’ve since learned that really good food isn't a commodity, and comes in limited quantities, like the fresh eggs from the school bus chickens.

When I’m getting up at 6 am to open up the front door of chicken bus and watch the chickens scamper onto the wet grass it’s gratifying to know that you love the eggs. Sorry again for not knowing enough about the ebb-and-flow of chicken egg supply and demand on a small scale farm to give you a heads-up about the potential dearth of eggs.

I especially apologize to Deborah for subjecting her to near-riot conditions when the news spread in a certain downtown office that there would be no fresh eggs any time soon.

Peter